That's a Wrap
by RamenKitty
Summary: A short little piece based on the Re2 trailer-my only concession to movie Fanfiction. Just how innocent is commercialism? pleased Readreview. I crave knowledge! that...it good...yesa...


This is a short little piece (Because I just got home from work and I'm bored) based on the Re2 movie trailer that just came out- (yes, it JUST came out) with Underworld.  If you haven't seen it yet-you won't get the short little blurb-so go check it out at www.re2.com or something like that ** * **shrugs * I forget the offical Resident Evil apocalypse webpage

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She lived her life by the click of a camera lenses, or the sound of a motion projector whirling.

"Okay, that's beautiful-now, gently trace your cheekbones like this." The director drew his own hands across his face-much to the amusement of his colleagues.

She dropped her arms at her sides, "Bob-can't people here you?"

"Relax babe…" A makeup girl moved in to touch up her "wrinkles" "Annette is doing the voice-over tomorrow.  This commercial will be on the air shortly."

            She sighed, next to her-the dog began to whine loudly, sniffing the air and twisting about.   He didn't like his collar-he kept trying to take it off with his paws.

"Relax…" She reached a hand down and patted the dog fondly, "It'll all be over soon."

            "Ah-the moneyman." Her eyes darted upward as Robert walked over to warmly embrace a man who had been standing-unnoticed-for several minutes.  Some distant voice sounded lunch-as Bob led the man over into the limelight.

"Dr. Birkin, this is Sandra, Sandra-" Bob's eyes fell upon her own like eagles, "This is Dr. Birkin of the Umbrella corporation."

            Sandra stiffened under Dr. Birkin's cold gaze.

_HE looks like a reptile! _She shuddered _those eyes, those awful eyes!_

But she lived her life by the whir of the camera and the movement of the moving pictures machine-so she smiled and nodded and kept silent, as Bob-her husband and boss-kept speaking.

            "We're all very excited about your product Dr." Bob said jovially, "This commercial should be on the airwaves within the week thanks to your generous donations."

"Its not donations Mr. Coen, its business." Dr. Birkin said smoothly, "Although the commercial may be ready shortly-the individual product…" 

            "Speaking of products," Sandra tried to maintain the casual air, "Have you heard from my brother?"

Dr. Birkin's eyes raised up, "Excuse me?"

"My brother." Sandra's brother was a Genetic specialist-he worked in the special facility deep underground.  She shivered slightly, thinking about the last time she'd seen him with his emancipated expression talking nothing but praise of the all knowing-omnipotent Umbrella.

            "Oh…" Dr. Birkin suddenly seemed evasive and bored at the same time, "I apologize.  Yes. Mr. Redfield-he…is well."

"He said he was coming home yesterday." Sandra prompted-unwilling to see the tone in his voice.  Robert looked pained, "His wife is kinda-well worried."

            "Please assure Mrs. Redfield that-"

Robert laughed loudly, "Eh- Dr., May I speak with my wife for a minute?"

            "Certainly." Here Dr. Birkin's reptilian looks returned, "But Mrs. Coen-please assure your sister in law that everything is just fine.  Mr. Redfield should be…home shortly." 

Here he smiled-and nearby technicians thought they'd drop dead from fright.  A gaffer at the nearby break table froze, and dropped the donut feeling that his boss was right behind him.  People in the rooms of the studio passed out from fright-and the makeup girl darted out of the room like a cat-catching whiff of a very angry dog.

Robert however-did not see.

"Come on Sandra-"

            He grabbed Sandra by the arm-leaving red marks just below the line of the white dress.  She walked stiffly beside him-until he pulled her into a nearby closet.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Sandra blinked, "What?" Robert's tone-normally playful and cheerful-was cold.  Something about him reminded her of that awful Dr. Birkin.

"You-asking about that.  He's our moneyman.  You-don't-piss-off-the-moneymen."

            "Fuck you!" Sandra pushed away from her husband, "I have every right to ask about my brother you son of a bitch!" She squinted at him-studying her husband closely, "What's wrong with you?"

Robert turned away from her, "What are you talking about?"

"You." Sandra said quietly, "These past few weeks-in negotiations-with Umbrella.  What the hell happened? You used to be a nice guy Rob…and now…"

            "Now." Robert said coldly, "Nothing's changed! This…" Here his eyes lit up, "This Commercial is going to be the start of a whole new life for us!"

"Robert-"

"No, Sandra-listen! I got in on the ground floor-as a member of Umbrella Public Relations department!"

She froze, "You never told me you left-"

"Yeah-but listen! Umbrella bought out the studio.  No more working AD or assistant on low budget Indies Sandra!" He grabbed his wife's arms and looked into her eyes with a fever, "You won't EVER have to hawk crème at old ladies ever again.  They're going to provide us with so much work darling-"

"Robert-"

He continued heedless, "And My deal with Dr. Birkin is only part of it! A few weeks from now-start of august-I'll be flying out to Rockfort Island-its Umbrella's new Sport Resort spa! Complete rejuvenation!  And that's not all! There's also another faculty in Arklay-cosmetics- everything Sandra! They're into everything and we're-" he stood up, suddenly tender, holding her shoulders gently, "a part of it baby."

"What the hell…" she pulled away, "happened to you?"

            Robert looked up at her with wounded eyes, "What?" 

He looked the same.  Same young face, same boyish, hangdog expression.  Same long brown hair-always brushing it into his eyes-

"Your hair." She froze, "You got it cut."

"Yeah I did." Robert chuckled, "Umbrella wanted someone a little more clean cut."

            Sandra shook her head, "Umbrella this…Umbrella that-What happened to you Rob? You used to say that working on Indies was all you ever wanted to do-and now-"

"People change Sandra." Robert shifted his feet.  He was wearing a different shirt now-she realized.  And a tie-and-cologne?

            "Its just…so sudden." She smiled at him, "I'm sorry darling…its just-"

Outside a dog began to bark.

            "Don't worry."

Sandra tried to recapture the old days again, "So…when are they sending their samples of that stuff we're hawking on TV?"

Robert froze.

"Never." His voice was harsh, "Whatever Dr. Birkin might say-I don't want you using that stuff okay?"

            She frowned, "What?"

"I just…" He turned away and went for the door, "Don't want you to alright?"

            "No." Sandra shook her head; "If I have to sell this stuff to people then I wanna be able to say that I use it too."

"I don't want you touching it."

"But-"

"I don't want you touching it!" Robert cried out, "Alright? You stay away from the fucking product.  Just do your job Sandra."

            "That-is-my JOB!" Sandra said.  Her voice echoed around the room, "To sell things to people-and I don't want to hurt anybody-"

Robert grabbed her by the arm, not looking into her face.  The trademark concentration that he'd given to her was lacking-for the first time.

"No Sandra.  Your job is to smile, look pretty, and make little old ladies and pre-teen girls want to buy this shit because THEY want to look like you." He let her go, shivering, "Get it? You're nothing more then a face babe.  A person who lives their life by the click of a camera.  And as long as the camera keeps clicking-we-stay-alive."

            Sandra sniffed.

"You got it Redfield?"

She nodded.

"Good."

Robert embraced her suddenly, in a wild burst of emotion.

            "I love you."

She made her way out, and nodded.

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"Now." Robert's voice was hoarse, "Here's a close-up shot, and I want you to look at the Camera like you have no cares in the world Sandra." Robert choked.  Her eyes strayed to Dr. Birkin in the background-who was watching intently with smoke screen, reptilian eyes.

            "I want to see beauty, confidence, power, and prestige.  And we're only going to do it in one take." Robert's voice went cold, "Hear me? One take."

There was a wave of confusion.

Robert's eyes caught Sandra's, and she saw turmoil.  Confusion, pain, suffering, and a terrible knowledge that weighed upon her husband like a stone.

He was her director.

Her guiding light.

            She put all of her love; all of her trust, and all of her faith in him into that one shot-nothing could hurt her as long as he was by her side.

"And-THAT'S IT!"

The confusion was replaced with cheers.

"Cut-print-good job everyone." Robert glanced around at his crew.  Within the month-all of them would be dead-cut down by a horrific disease that they were now selling to the public.

But the job was over-the bug was spread-the film was done.

And there was nothing more.

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Fin.


End file.
